


Then and Now

by Bluepill_150



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Study, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:48:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23796397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluepill_150/pseuds/Bluepill_150
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple hunt but life doesn't work that way for Sam and Dean
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	1. Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is my first time posting a fic so I don't really know what I am doing...but hopefully it's not too bad 
> 
> There are definitely some inaccuracies pertaining to Sam and Deans childhood but like the show isn't always clear so just go with it.  
> I have no idea when this story takes place, just that it's sometime after season 8. 
> 
> A lot of my interpretations stem from assumptions that have been made in the fandom because sometimes you guys are better than the writers so if anything seems out of character thats why.

It was supposed to be a quick salt and burn case, of course it never works like that. Sam sometimes wonders if it’s because there is nothing simple about this life. That if it was easy it would somehow become morally wrong. That maybe complexity is what keeps them human, keeps them from being soldiers. Keeps them from going in without second thought, neutralizing the target as if they are meant for nothing more than to be weapons. Except evil doesn’t work like that, doesn’t have a conscious mind and sometimes he feels like a weapon anyway. Either way this case wasn’t simple and that’s why he’s currently on the ground with a concussion and deep gash in his side with his brother hovering over him, worried as if they haven’t been down this road a hundred times and as if they won’t be here again soon. Sam doesn’t think he’s dying, doesn’t feel like he’s dying, but then again pain doesn’t feel like it used to and he’s constantly somewhere between now and then so he doesn’t really know. All he knows is that right now he is here and here is somewhere between the past and the future but he doesn’t really have an idea what that means anymore. The past is hundreds of years away and the future means nothing when you know fate personally. 

“Hey stop that, you can’t fall asleep” 

Dean is above him now. Sam hadn’t even realized he was drifting, till the image of his brother forced him to remember where he is. There’s blood on Deans hands but when is there not. Blood fits Dean like a second skin these days. Sam distantly remembers putting blood on his face to hide from Samhain, maybe that’s what Dean is doing now. Hiding. Maybe it’s what they are both doing here. Maybe they can’t ever stop because then they would have to stop and think about what they are really doing here. Saving people, that’s what they are supposed to be doing, but it feels like a lifetime ago when that was actually true. They keep doing this and guising it as some sort of heroic altruism when really its anything but selfless. Because here they are, Dean with blood on his hands and Sam slowly bleeding out, same story, different night. Sam would be lying if he said this wasn’t the most alive he’s felt in weeks. 

“Sam you have to stay awake until I stop the bleeding” 

Sam nods, makes eye contact with his brother. Some sort of silent contract passes between them. _You can’t die here, not like this. I know._ But will the bleeding ever really stop. Sam doesn’t think so, they are silently bleeding out everyday, leaving trails as the blaze through another town, wondering if they are ever actually making a difference. Or maybe they are just leaving a trail of violence in their wake. People die it’s inevitable, evil is inevitable, kill one monster and there are 10 more. How many monsters will they kill before they realize that what they are doing is just a form of displacement. That all they are really doing is trying to take the parts of themselves that they hate and kill them along with the monsters. But kill one demon and there’s still 100 more. 

“You gotta stop scaring me like this” Dean laughs but it’s not funny. 

“then stop saving me” But he won’t. They have been down this road before. 

“Not a chance” And isn’t that the problem. They have been ignoring the law of effect for years now. They talk about going down swinging, but those words mean nothing if they never actually go down. 

“it’s the law of effect” He doesn’t know why he says it out loud. Dean won’t understand. 

“the what” Dean asks but he doesn’t really care, but he asks anyway because it’s what they do. They always ask and never listen. 

“It’s…we keep ignoring it” Dean pauses, looks at him for a split second and keeps working. He doesn’t understand, doesn’t care to figure out what his brother is saying because he probably doesn’t want to know. 

“Shut up and focus” The dismissal should hurt, but that’s how they work. It’s how they stay floating. Because Sam thinks too much and Dean doesn’t think at all. They are complementary. Dean stops him from going to places he shouldn’t and Sam forces Dean to confront what he doesn’t want to. Two sides of the same coin, unable to exist without the other. 

Sam complies, keeping his eyes focused on the blood that is staining the ground. He’s tired of seeing it, but can’t ignore its beauty. 

_Sam is 10 years old, its his first hunt and there’s a body on the ground. It’s his first kill._

_Dean is smiling “good job Sammy”_

_There is pride in his fathers eyes_

_Sam watches the blood pool. He can’t breathe._

_It’s a mosaic of beauty and pain, he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel. He feels like a weapon._

Sam had set fire to the ghost before falling, the fire sending off heat waves that gently touched his skin. Another mosaic. Cognitive dissonance threatening to take his breath away. A divide between what Sam knows is right and what he feels is right. A fracture in his soul. Cries of agony as the spirit ceases to exist. He got the job done and that’s what’s right. But is there anything right about pain, this fire is anything but natural, but this fire is home. Sam knows fire better than anyone, Sam is fire. Or at least he used to be, now he’s just smoke. If he is fire than Dean is water, always drowning. 

“Almost done, then we can get the hell out of here” Dean’s less worried now, initial panic from seeing his brother fall fading. The damage is mostly superficial. Sam is always falling. 

_Almost done._ Thats what Dean says, but they are never done. It’s an endless cycle, they will be here again next week. They have been down this road before. But Deans words are a placebo for hope and they both know it. 

“maybe next time, don’t jump in front of me” Sam isn’t sorry for that, will never be sorry for saving his brother. Dean knows it, and underneath the fear and worry there is some misguided gratitude. Misguided because they both know they will always push the other aside, if only not to be the one left standing alone. 

But isn’t that what Dean wanted? Isn’t that why he came to get him from Stanford. Isn’t that the reason he keeps pulling his brother from fires when he shouldn’t. So that they can do more of this, so that they can push each other out of the way, jump in front of bullets and save each other. So that they can keep fighting the same fight they have been for what feels like a hundred years. So that they can keep this perceptual constancy alive. A fire is a fire no matter how you look at it and a gun is still a gun no matter how it's used. Sam feels like a weapon. 

Sam remembers when he didn’t want to live like this. The days when he fought to be free. The days when his father treated his want for normal as some sort of nefarious attempt at conformity. But normal means nothing when you are 10 years old and you just killed something that used to breathe the same air as you. Normal means nothing when you are born into fire. 

“Okay come on Sam, the car isn’t far” Dean lifts his brother up and for a minute he’s 10 again and his brother is guiding him back to the car and talking about how proud he is and Sam can’t breathe. But he’s not 10 anymore and this was just like every other day for them, they have been down this road before and they will be here again. 

They reach the Impala and then he’s in the passenger seat and his brother is behind the wheel. Complementary is what they are. Dean is tired, adrenaline has worn off but he looks at his brother with a smile and says “lets go home Sammy” 

Sam doesn’t reply. Maybe he’s lost more blood than he thought, or maybe he’s got some form of verbal aphasia because he doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know if he should say anything. He hardly ever knows when to speak anymore. He used to be a fire, now he’s just smoke. 

Sam feels like a weapon. 

When they get home Dean will retreat to the kitchen for a drink. Always drowning. Always hiding. His extraversion a shield, his words a placebo. He’s always afraid, always scared one day he will fail to pull his brother from the fire. Afraid he won’t he able to keep his head above the water. 

Sam will retreat to his room, will leave the door cracked so the smoke doesn’t get too heavy, his gun placed under his pillow. 

They will always be here. 


	2. Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the same event just from Deans POV instead of Sams. 
> 
> Not gonna lie this one was harder to write. I gravitate towards Sam when I watch the show so I notice more about him which makes him easier to write for. I still enjoy Deans character and wanted to try to get the characterization right but I am not quite sure if I did or not.

This was supposed to be a simple hunt but of course it’s not because it never is. Not with them. Now Dean is hovering over his brother with a cloth in hand trying to stop him from bleeding out. It feels like that’s all he does these days, stop his brother from bleeding out. His brother is too open, too willing to spill blood for others, to spill blood for Dean. Which is what he did today. He jumped in front of his brother with the panic and fear of someone who has never done this before, as if one of them doesn’t get hurt on every hunt. They have been down this road before and they will be here again soon. Dean would prefer it were him laying on the ground now. After all these years he still can’t get used to the sight of his brother in pain. A part of him stuck in Cold Oak where he failed his brother for the first time. The past is a hundred years ago, but that day feels like yesterday. Now he is just trying to get his brother to tomorrow, just to tomorrow and they can figure out the rest later. 

“Hey stop that, you can’t fall asleep” 

His brothers eyes focus back on him, but then they drift off again. Dean should say something, anything to get his brother to stop thinking so damn much, but words are clogged by fear. They have been here before, but he’s still got blood on his hands, but when does he not. It should scare him how familiar the site is, should make him pause and think about how they got here, but he doesn’t want to know. Blood suits him, it’s never suited Sam. Sam and blood don’t mix, Sam with blood on his hands is someone Dean doesn’t recognize. Sometimes Dean wonders why his brother is still by his side, why he hasn’t just walked out, hasn’t decided there is too much blood and he wants out. Dean certainly feels that way sometimes. But he isn’t Sam and this is all he knows. He knows his job, his place in the world. Keep his brother safe. That’s his job. 

“Sam you have to stay awake until I stop the bleeding” 

His brothers eyes connect with him then and they stay. There is a silent contract that passes between them. _You aren’t going to die, I won’t let you. I know._ His brother trusts him and he won’t let him down, not this time. Dean thinks of his father and everything he taught him, all the times he counted on him to protect his youngest son. Is this what John wanted? Did he want him hovering over his kid brother, pressing down on a wound that won’t heal. Sure they have been here before but it doesn’t make it any easier and it doesn’t make it okay. Every time Sam loses a piece of himself and Dean gets closer to letting the water in. 

“you gotta stop scaring me like this” Dean laughs because that’s what he does. Thats how they work. Dean figured out how to fill the silence when he was a kid. Knew that when his brother stopped talking, he was thinking. So he fills the silence with jokes and when his brother looks at him with a straight face and annoyance that isn’t really annoyance, he knows he’s done his job right. 

“Then stop saving me” And that won’t ever happen. They’ve been down that road before. Sam has to know by now that Dean can’t live without him. 

“Not a chance” It’s all he can say because he doesn’t need to say more. Sam knows this, like he knows every word to an exorcism. It’s always the same. 

“its the law of effect” Dean doesn’t know what his brother is talking about and he knows Sam knows it to, but he says it out loud because he has to. 

“the what” Dean isn’t really going to bother to figure out what his brother is saying but he asks anyways. He always does. If only to let his brother know that he actually said it, that he spoke the words into the world to be heard. 

“it’s…we keep ignoring it” Dean pauses because he understands more than his brother thinks he does, he just wishes he didn’t. 

“Shut up and focus” the words sound cruel, but it's how they work. If he doesn’t stop him, Sam will keep talking, keep spiraling until Dean hears what he is really saying. Dean doesn’t want to hear what he is really saying, doesn’t want to give the words any thought and make them true. There is a harmonious balance between them, Sam drifts sometimes, Dean pulls him back. While Sam shoves words into Deans face until he faces them. He hates it but he needs it. 

Dean continues working, the bleeding has almost stopped and the fear is fading, but he can’t help but hate that they are here. 

_Dean is 10, it’s his first real hunt, but it isn’t his first kill. He’s getting better at it though._

_His father is smiling, “good job Dean”_

_The monster is dead, its bleeding out. Dean can breathe again_

_It can’t hurt Sam now_

_His job is done_

When Sam had set fire to the bones after recklessly pushing Dean aside. Dean couldn’t help but hate that it wasn’t him setting fire to the spirit. It’s his job to kill the monsters and keep Sam safe. As the spirit burns, he’s relieved, the job is over. This fire is the best thing he’s ever seen. His brother used to burn like that, used to be all fury, now he isn’t. Dean used to wade in the water, used to barely feel the cold. Now it’s up to his chest and the one person who keeps it from swallowing him whole is falling to the ground and a wave is rushing forward to take him under. 

“Almost done, then we can get the hell out of here” Dean can’t wait to leave and never come back to this place. He knows they will be here again soon, but that doesn’t matter right now. Right now he wants to get his brother home safe and forget this ever happened. 

“maybe next time don’t jump in front of me” he doesn’t expect an apology from his brother and it doesn’t come. He knows his brother will always do it, because he would do the same. He should do the same because it’s his job. He tells himself that this won’t happen again, that this is last time he won’t do his job correctly, but he knows he is wrong. But maybe if he says it enough times it will become true. 

This isn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want to end up here. He wanted his brother by his side, but not like this. Sam and blood don’t mix, they never have. 

He remembers when his brother wanted out, when him and Dad would yell at each other and get nowhere. He remembers when Sam left to find normal, but normal was supposed to be them together fighting side by side. Normal was supposed to be having Sam where Dean could keep him safe. Not miles away where he couldn’t follow. 

“Okay come on Sam, the car isn’t far” For a minute he is 10 again, carrying his sleeping brother to the car. But he’s not 10 anymore and his brother isn’t a kid and they have been here before and they will be here again next week. 

They reach the car and he helps Sam into the passenger seat and gets in the drivers seat. This is how it’s supposed to be. Sam is quiet and no doubt thinking more than he should be. So he smiles and says, “let’s go home Sammy” because it’s all he can say. He doesn’t wait for a reply, Sam doesn’t say much these days. The water is sitting at his chest but its no longer threatening to take over. 

His job is done. 

When they get back home, he will pour himself a drink and try not to think about all the ways this could have gone wrong. Try not to let the water rise again. 

Sam will retreat to his room without a word. His eyes tired, his flames gone. His small smile more for Deans benefit than his own. His brother doesn’t say much anymore. 

They will always be here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if there are glaring errors.


End file.
